THE ENCOUNTER
by AliSwan91896
Summary: Eponine encounters Grantaire on a lonely night and they talk of ardent passions.


THE ENCOUNTER

"You little bitch. Come here." Said the ugly drunk man.

Eponine shrugged against the wall and spat at his feet. He held up her dirty fists and hit him hard against the chest. "Let me go." She screamed.

The ugly man laughed and reached to her. "I've paid your father for the night. I daresay I overpaid for a cheap little scum as you. I must admit it was your witty tongue that drew me in, but perhaps it would be wiser to buy dumb whores as they put up no resistance. It matters not; I intend to get my use out of my merchandise."

Eponine raised a hand and slapped him as hard as her weak body could muster. She kicked and scratched him until he let her go for a second to hold his bleeding face. She dashed from beneath his arms and ran from his cursing. She ran into the streets. "Bastard." She whispered. She'd kill her father, she would. He had once again sold her body. She cried a little from hunger and pain and slumped down against a wall. She could not go home, not for a couple weeks. Her father would beat her when she did, but maybe he'd spare her long-lasting bruises if she brought some money back. Without a place to go she wandered aimlessly trying to think of a somewhere to rest.

"How stupid I am," she cried, "Why Monsieur Marius will give me pity and if I'm lucky a few francs."

In truth she did not worry her head over Marius' francs, but his presence. She longed to be near him and look at him. Quickly her nimble feet made their way the inn her father lived at and Monsieur Marius resided too. She pressed herself against the wall of the building for fear of her father finding her. Eponine stayed there for many hours until her exhausted body fell and she drifted into sleep at the streets before the inn. When she woke she ripped some cloth from her skirt and chewed it to ease the hunger. It was hours later that she saw a dark figure approaching.

"Enjolras... I tell you it isn't my fault. I'm sorry... " He said loudly.

Eponine watched him for a while, he seemed drunk. She softly went to him and touched his shoulder. Startled he jumped and turned around. Eponine looked back at the face in fear recognizing the man who had bought her from earlier. Then her body relaxed, she was mistaken. It was not the same man. Neither was it Monsieur Marius. The man smelled terrible looked ugly as the man from the morning. His eyes were kinder though and he looked surprised.

"Excuse moi, Monsieur I thought you mon ami." She stuttered. Then she mused, what joy it was to call Marius a friend.

"Your friend? I look nothing like any man from this area. I am drunk, I am dirty, and stupid. Who can you have mistaken me for?" he rasped softly.

Eponine stared into the kind eyes and felt a sort of pity for this fellow outcast. "Dear Monsieur, you are also mistaken. At least you are gentle; I've met many men drunk, dirty, stupid, and mean. They are beasts." She said sparing him.

He laughed, "I'll have a brandy mademoiselle."

Eponine touched his shoulder again, "Monsieur, I'm not a barmaid. Please wake good Monsieur and keep me company. I've nowhere to go just like you."

The man breathed in air and came once again to part of his senses. "Pardon, it is hard to think during liquors' presence.

"You're quite humane compared to my father under its toll."

The man rubbed his hands together and sat down upon the ground. Eponine joined him after a while cautiously.

"What's your name gamin girl?"

"Does it matter monsieur?"

He scratched his head and stared at her strangely, "No I suppose it doesn't, but tell me and I'll tell you mine. Then we can even pretend we're friends."

Eponine blushed and was glad it was dark out; she'd never had a friend. As terribly scrawny the stranger might be in appearance he was kind to humor her a little.

"Eponine"

"Mademoiselle," he responded reaching for her hand, "It's Grantaire."

Eponine was surprised at his handshake. Grantaire looked at her, his eyes scrolled down profiling her. Eponine turned red a little angry that he should be so judgmental.

"What?"

Grantaire didn't answer, he rubbed his head.

"Who was that you were muttering about before?" she demanded.

"hmm?"

"That it wasn't your fault?" she asked quietly

Grantaire's glazed eyes sparkled.

"It was just drunk ranting mademoiselle. Don't let my company bother you."

Eponine stared at him. He was lying.

"You're almost as bad a liar as my father. Tell me. I am just a dirty gamin, what harm shall that do? Maybe I'll tell you of my miserable life…" she trailed off.

"Alright, I'll try you." He laughed his mind clearly fogged with wine.

Eponine waited. What could pain the drunk so much? It didn't really matter. It would be nice to escape into someone else's worries for a while.

"Enjolras you see-"

"Who's that?"

Grantaire glared at her, "Enjolras is a demi-god on Earth. Very fiery of course…" he began to slur words," If you saw him the only thing that'd come to mind is 'beautiful' it would. Myself could never' get over Apollo's looks…" he stopped

"It isn't fair is it? That some people are beautiful and we aren't" Eponine chided trying to encourage him halfheartedly.

"What? No I do envy him, but not for his beauty... maybe because of his dreams. He despises me you know? He shakes every other man's hand as an equal, but me? Of course not. I don't mind, if he didn't despise me he wouldn't take a second glance in my direction. It's quite convenient that way. I only admire him more..."

Eponine was finding it quite hard to follow with Grantaire slurred words and lack of information.

"This man… Do you care so much for him? Why?"

Grantaire stayed silent. He coughed a little. His breath smelled terrible.

"What are you in love?" Eponine teased

Grantaire had been near sober he would have laughed and been frightened at the idea. But after more than the normal bottles of wine, Grantaire didn't have the sense to lie tonight.

"Yes. A feeling that certainly isn't returned…-

She opened her mouth and shut it. Certainly it was the brandy that had him rambling. She decided to play along.

"Does it hurt? To love someone and not be loved back?" she heard the true curiosity in her own voice.

"Sometimes. It all fades with brandy and wine. You're strange gamin, you know?"

"So tell me more of Enjolras." Replied Eponine ignoring his soft insult

"Student." He grunted. "Revolutionary. Plans to take down the King did you know? Foolish boy. Man I mean… But you see, he has his men lined up to die for his cause. Prouvaire, Feuilly, Courfeyrac, Bahoral, Combeferre, L'aigle, oh and Pontmercy. Last one didn't really count though… Me I suppose. I would die for his revolution if it made him happy."

Eponine leaned forward when he said 'Pontmercy' her eyes gleamed.

"Monsieur Marius? Tell me Grantaire about Pontmercy."

"Huh? Did you call him Marius? Well he's a strange man. Never really listens or understands the Amis. But neither do I, so I can't really blame him. Argued with Enjolras once. Terrified the lot of us. Naturally Apollo won. He's a funny one. He's in love Courfeyrac tells us. With a Cosette, week before he was head over heels for an Ursula so I suppose he likes his grisettes…"

"In love?" whispered Eponine horrified.

"I've seen you before Eponine." Grantaire remarked.

"Where? I've never seen you." She replied quickly, perhaps a little harsher than usual.

He shrugged, "The streets, and few times with Pontmercy actually… So you do know him? Why did you ask questions then?"

Eponine blushed, "Monsieur Marius, you mean." She said quietly.

Grantaire laughed a bitter dry rasp. "I've put it together now I have… I see. So you are Marius' dear obsession. Why didn't you tell me your name was Cosette? Were you scared of me? Marius has gone mad. Mad with love and stupidity. It's your fault, you know?"

Eponine jumped back, her face turned whiter with every word. Grantaire chuckled drunkenly. She shook her head slowly. Eponine held her head in her cold fingers. She felt Grantaire's soft snores next to her. It was true Marius had found Cosette.

"Of course he is in love with her." She whispered to herself, "This is why he does not come home at night."

She scowled and trembled from cold and hurt in the dark. She told herself it was foolish to ponder over such things, Marius was in love. It was a fact, nothing else. Had she expected anything from him? He was a handsome Monsieur and she was a dirty street urchin who had talked to him once or twice. It mattered not. She picked herself up, looked in the pockets of Grantaire. She took half of the four francs and patted him softly on the cheek before running into the dark.


End file.
